


Incense and Smoke

by redstaronmyshoulder (CaptainAmelia22)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drabble, Heavy Petting, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 19:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20894969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAmelia22/pseuds/redstaronmyshoulder
Summary: Caleb comes to Essek one night-with Beau as moral support-and tries to show the Shadowhand just what he wants from the man.





	Incense and Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> Just some drabble I had to get out after last week's episode! Hope you like it! 
> 
> Also head's up-I do not speak German haha. I tried to not butcher it too much. Any mistakes are my own!

The first time Essek catches sight of Caleb Widogast in his new Xorhassian clothing, his jaw drops and he nearly destroys the Bright Queen’s latest missive. Essek waves the letter away with a soft curse before it can be spied upon or crumpled to dust in his fist.

“Herr Shadowhand,” the human says, light blue eyes sparkling with some unknown emotion. His lips, scarred but appealingly plump, curl in a small smile and Essek realizes this is the first time he’s seen the man’s jawline devoid of scruffy ginger hair. “Are you well?” 

Essek clears his throat and turns his eyes from Caleb to the monk standing at his back, grinning in a too-knowing way. She’d also taken advantage of his offer of tailors and upgraded her clothing, he notices with pleasure. Golds, blues, greens and purples still grace her lean, muscled form but furs drape her shoulders and legs. 

Tanned skin ripples in her bared biceps though, he notices and he resists rolling his eyes. 

Only Beauregard would scorn sleeves in the chilly air of Xorhas. 

“I’m quite well,” Essek says, his voice only a bit less put together than normal and he flicks his gaze once more in Caleb’s direction. “I am pleased to see you whole and in one piece, Caleb. May I inquire as to why you have come at such an hour?” 

It’s late, it’s true. 

But Essek rarely sleeps. And he knows the heroes keep strange hours as well. 

Caleb blinks owlishly at him for a moment and Beau snorts, rolling her dark eyes behind the lenses of her blue glasses. 

“Right, well, you’re here so I’m going to go to the tavern with Jes and Nott. You cool, Caleb?” 

She nudges Caleb gently, calling his attention back to her and she raises a pierced brow when he blushes. 

“Wh-Ja, Beau, ja I am fine. Please do not get kicked out of this one,” Caleb murmurs, his lips curling in a crooked little grin that makes something strange twist in Essek’s chest. “My thanks, my friend.” 

He pats her bare arm and she shakes her head, punching him lightly in return. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, wizard,” she says, waving over her shoulder in the direction of Essek still staring wordlessly at them. “See you in a bit.”

“Ow,” the wizard mutters, rubbing the assaulted arm. “Arschloch.” 

Essek shakes himself, turning and beckoning the wizard deeper into his study. “Your friends continue to puzzle me, Caleb,” he says, chuckling. He smiles at the man’s familiar, bending to stroke the creature’s silky, tan ears and Caleb snorts. 

“Ja, they are...well, they are all idiots but they mean well,” he sighs, blue eyes soft as he watches Essek and Frumpkin. “Herr Shadowhand-” he begins but Essek waves his words away. 

“Essek, please,” he says, scooping the familiar into his arms and drifting to his favorite chair tucked close to the fireplace. “We have discussed this in the past, my friend.” 

Caleb fidgets, blowing a stray curl off his forehead.

He’d taken to wearing his hair in a queue, Essek had noticed several weeks past. It suits him. Makes him appear a bit more put together. 

Plus it calls attention to the noble length of his pale neck and the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones. 

Essek rather enjoys that. 

Rather enjoys the sight of the slender man in well-fitting, boldly colored clothes too. 

The deep purple coat drapes his form elegantly. Shimmers of pinks, gold, blues and greens flicker with each breath the human takes. It’s an elegant piece. Understated. But well-constructed. Essek smiles to himself, pleased his personal tailors had taken his advice to heart and done their best to turn the human out in such a way. 

Judging by both human’s appearances, they’d done an exceptional job on the whole team of mercenaries.

“The new coat suits you,” he murmurs, turning from the chair to drift closer to Caleb, his slender fingers stretching out to stroke the ebony buttons glinting in the firelight. “This color brings the gold flecks out in your eyes.” 

Those eyes widen ever so slightly at their close proximity and a charming flush crawls up the human’s pale skin. 

“Ja, J-Jester said the same, this morning,” Caleb says, nervously tucking a ginger curl behind his ear. “Thank you once more for helping us find-find the right clothes for this country. I am...very grateful...Essek.”

Caleb lingers on his name, the flush making its way to his freckled cheeks and he peeks up at Essek through his lowered lashes. 

It’s charming. 

And daring. 

Essek cocks a brow at the unusual heat in the other man’s bearing and drifts a bit closer, the fae cat in his arms purring louder as their bodies begin to warm its otherworldly body. 

“Herr Widogast,” he says, a faint growl underlying his words and he bares his teeth in a feral sort of grin. “Are you...flirting with me?”

Caleb’s head tilts back a bit on his neck-an invitation?-and his scarred lips curl once more in a slightly teasing smirk. 

“Perhaps, Herr Shadowhand,” he says, his hand rising to wrap lightly around Essek’s where it still presses against the human’s chest. “Perhaps I am simply expressing what gratitude I can, for your continuing...generosity.” 

Their chests brush with each breath they take; Essek barely notices when Caleb snaps the familiar out of their plane of existence. Suddenly his hands are free and he can wrap all of his fingers in the other man’s coat lapels. 

“Caleb,” he murmurs, his bottom lip disappearing for a moment between his teeth as he hesitates. “What-what do you want from me?” 

And this. 

This is what he has wondered every night since the Bright Queen assigned him the Nein and Caleb turned those maddeningly sharp blue eyes in his direction. 

This is what he has wondered since that first brush of their fingers that first night in the wizard’s library. The electric spark of desire had danced through his skin when their hands had touched. And it had maddened him for hours afterwards. 

And this. 

And...this.

“What do I want...from you?” Caleb says, his voice soft, low. His fingers tighten around Essek’s wrist, a spasm of anxiety that flickers for a moment in his bright blue eyes. He glances to the side, brow furrowing for a moment and he licks his lips nervously, a faint murmur of Xemnian spilling free. 

“I am not sure.” 

The words strike Essek like blows-staccato bursts of pain that leave him breathless for a brief moment and he drifts out of Caleb’s space, his face twisting with emotions he has never felt before. 

Caleb pales. “Essek,” he says, his hand hovering between them, fingers clenched uncertainly on empty air. “I did not mean-” 

“I understand, Herr Widogast,” Essek says, his words stiff and empty. He turns away, towards the fire crackling cheerfully in the grate. “Now tell me why you’ve come. I have business of the Bright Queen’s I must attend to.”

Caleb is quiet for a long, long moment. 

“Essek,” he murmurs and Essek jumps when the warm breath of the human washes over the back of his neck. “Please look at me.” 

A soft brush of fingers on Essek’s waist. That same spark of energy-of desire-rushes through him. Essek’s eyes squeeze closed and he takes a long, deep breath through his nose. 

“No,” he whispers, whether to himself or to the human, gently touching him, he is not sure. 

“Please,” Caleb breathes. He murmurs something in Xemnian that of course Essek does not understand but the way the human lingers so softly over the words it feels…

Like an endearment. 

“I do not know how to tell you this in Common,” Caleb sighs, squeezing Essek’s waist once more. “I am-I am not very good at understanding vocal social cues in the language-even now. I am...I am sorry if what I said-if how I said it-was offensive.” 

He swallows, the clicking of his throat audible in the quiet library and Essek finds himself leaning into the other man’s warmth. Into the heady scent of incense, musk and ink. It’s a particularly Caleb scent and one that lingers for hours whenever the human crosses his threshold. 

“Caleb,” he sighs, hand rising to wearily rub at his brow. “I cannot-” 

“May I show you what I want from you?” Caleb suddenly asks, the words falling almost too fast from his clenched jaw and his accent thickens. “Please meine wünderschone, liebe.” 

Essek’s ears prick at the last word. 

Liebe.

He had heard Caleb call the fae cat that a few times. And the goblin woman with the penchant for strong spirits and dangerous alchemy. 

Liebe?

Love.

Essek’s heart stutters in his chest. 

But he nods, his fingers falling from his brow to clutch lightly at the collar of his shirt. Caleb breathes a sigh of relief and Essek’s eyes widen when the human brushes his lips gently across the nape of Essek’s neck. 

“Danke,” Caleb murmurs and suddenly the hand cupping his waist moves so his arm wraps lightly around Essek’s waist. “Bear with me for a moment, Herr Shadowhand,” he mutters. “It is a new thing and I am not quite proficient at it.”

He clears his throat, murmurs something and his fingers curl in an unusual pattern. The sharp scent of incense brushes across Essek’s nose for a moment and there’s a faint pop of energy. 

Then, before he can stiffen or pull free of the wizard’s grip, a ghostly image rises before their eyes. 

Caleb’s voice is strained when he speaks next, “It is a play on minor illusion. One of my own devising-well, mine and Jester’s.” 

Essek barely hears him, his eyes wide as he takes in the shadowy forms of themselves twining together, in an obvious kiss. 

The shadow form of Essek pulls shadow-Caleb close, their smoke forms melding for a long moment that makes something warm wash through Essek’s body to pool in the pit of his belly. 

“Light bless it,” he whispers, eyes wide. “This is a clever piece of magic, Caleb.” The scent of incense is still rich about them and a ghostly chuckle murmurs in his ear. “How did you do it?”

Caleb’s lips brush the nape of his neck once more. “Jester’s god taught it to her and in turn she taught me the rudiments of it. I put a slight dunamatic twist on it though.” 

Essek frowns. “You bent time?” he asks, eyes still locked on the now dissipating smoke forms of themselves. 

Caleb doesn’t answer right away and Essek twists in his embrace to meet his hooded gaze. His lips are curled in a small, pleased smile. Essek rather likes that smug expression. 

“You did, didn’t you?” he asks, raising a hand to cup the wizard’s cheek. “Clever human.” 

Caleb chuckles. “I do not know how to ask you-out loud-for what I want Essek,” he sighs, his free hand rising to stroke Essek’s cheek. “I am...not very good at romantic advances.”

Essek snorts, turning to fully face the other man. “I’d noticed,” he says, stroking his fingers over Caleb’s cheek to tangle in the soft curls of his hair. “I spent weeks trying to catch your eye.” He glances over his shoulder to where their smoke interpretations had lingered and he smiles. “But I think I grasp your meaning, wizard.” 

Caleb gasps the moment Essek yanks him close and their lips meet in a heated kiss. It is not their first kiss. Not truly. They’d shared caresses before, in the shadows of Essek’s library. 

But this kiss…

This kiss is everything Essek had dreamed of.

Their tongues tangle together, Caleb moaning as Essek buries his fingers in his hair and pulls his head back to deepen the kiss. Caleb’s fingers slip beneath the edges of Essek’s shirt to twist in the belt at his waist and he murmurs Essek’s name, pairing it with some Xemnian that Essek wishes he understood. 

Caleb’s body melts into his, yielding to every inch of Essek’s taller form. Essek sighs and cups one hand around the man’s skinny ass. Caleb breathes something in his mothertongue when Essek’s slender fingers brush the cleft of his ass. 

“Was that a curse, Herr Widogast?” Essek chuckles, breaking the kiss to catch his breath and study the flushing human in his arms. Caleb’s eyes are dark, the pupils eating at the blue and he looks quite pleasantly dazed.

Ravished, even. 

“Perhaps,” he breathes, kiss-swollen lips curled in a knowing smile once more. 

Essek’s fingers tighten in Caleb’s coat and he pulls the human even closer, easing his knee between the man’s thighs. Caleb’s eyes darken further, that delectable mouth falling open once more as he groans Essek’s name. 

“To bed, meine liebste?” Essek says, trying his best not to garble the Xemnian too much. 

Caleb chokes back a laugh at his terrible accent and stands on his tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to Essek’s throat. 

“That was almost passable, Shadowhand,” he murmurs, nipping at Essek’s thundering pulse. “We’ll make a proper Xemnian of you yet.” 

Essek snorts. “Light forbid,” he murmurs, cupping Caleb’s jaw and bringing him close for a softer, chaster kiss. “Now. Can I take you to bed?” 

Caleb hesitates for a mere moment, his eyes drifting from Essek’s to where their shadow forms had tangled together and a charming flush warms his freckled cheeks. 

“Ja,” he breathes. “Yes. Please, Essek.” 

“Finally,” Essek breathes, lowering his head once more to Caleb’s, his fingers claiming the human and bending him to his will.

Their kiss is long, heated, full of too many weeks of pent up desires. 

Essek had dreamed of kissing Caleb like this since that first day he’d set eyes on the dirty, ragged human in his Queen’s antechamber. 

But this kiss…

Ah Light. 

It is better than even he could have dreamed of. 

It tastes like incense and smoke. 

Of promise.

“To bed,” he murmurs, snapping his fingers and instantly transferring them across the plane to his bedroom. 

Caleb chuckles. “You must teach me that, Shadowhand,” he murmurs as Essek pushes him to the bed and straddles him. 

“One day, wizard,” Essek murmurs, settling his lips once more on the man’s pale, musky scented skin. “One day.” 

The promise fuels them in ways neither completely understands. 

Not that either of them truly cares.


End file.
